The Things We Do
by TutorGirlml
Summary: A two-part bit of friendship/comfort/romance about the things we do take care of those we love and make sure they're okay Morgan/Garcia
1. I Can't Sleep When You're Gone

(This is just going to be a short two-chapter Morgan/Garcia story, simply because I can't resist and I was so glad to see their bond highlighted again on the premiere. I was having withdrawal all summer (and towards the end of last year). This is set somewhere in late season 2, after "Profiler, Profiled" but before season 3 and "Penelope" so I know I'm backtracking in the timeline quite a bit, but I hope you bear with me. I don't think there's anything else you need to know for this one, other than that neither "Criminal Minds" nor these two wonderful characters are mine and I'm not claiming to own them, just playing with their fictional likenesses!)

The Things We Do…

Chapter One

I Can't Sleep When You're Gone

"All through the night, I'll be standing over you

_All through the night, I'll be watching over you…_

_So don't worry, I'm your Angel standing by…"_

_- "Angel Standing By," Jewel_

She worried about him whenever they went out; prayed fervently even as she worked until he returned, that they would catch the unsub and come back unharmed – that this wouldn't be the mission where luck ran out. She found she didn't like to leave for home until she knew the rest of her team, but especially him, had gotten in safely. Sometimes, she sat huddled in her technology den all through the night and changed into the spare outfit she'd started keeping there, so she could be waiting bright-faced when he finally trooped in the following morning, looking bleary and needing her cheer.

Penelope Garcia didn't let herself think too long on why she did this, or wonder too seriously when she had suddenly starting caring so desperately. It simply became habit – something she couldn't help doing.

Of course, she worried for all of their safety and was friendly with all of them; hoped they would continue to be able to do their job without losing anything more. They had already lost Elle, and had a close brush there with Reid in Georgia. But somehow the way she worried for Derek Morgan when the team was out in the field was different. She would never forget the time she'd thought that he and Hotch were dead after that explosion in Annandale, or when they had heard that he had been arrested at his home in Chicago and she'd had to dig into his past to save him. When it came to him, it somehow went beyond her concern for the rest of them.

Possibly because she knew he was the one who took the most risks. He was all action – the one who would kick down doors, burst into a situation, and ask questions later. JJ's polish, Reid's cerebral strengths, and Hotch, Gideon, and Prentiss' restraint led most of them to consider all the possible outcomes before taking action. And while she knew the Morgan had these capabilities too, and would use them if ordered to, she also knew that his desire to bring in the unsub, to put a stop to whatever heinous acts were being done as soon as possible, sometimes overrode his caution, and certainly his concern for his own safety.

And so, as it had turned out, she had taken over worrying about him coming back in one piece – just in case no one else did.

The team had flown out early yesterday for Albuquerque. Seemingly, some sort of kidnapping ring was taking kids to work as slave labor in Mexico across the border. Penelope knew and understood as well as anyone that cases involving the mistreatment of children could get Morgan out-of-his-mind angry quicker than any other. Not that she could blame him – considering… Still, she hated sitting back at Quantico knowing a case was going to make him blow a gasket before it even started, and not being able to do anything about it.

Gideon hadn't thought when they left that it would take them long to crack this one. These people were just common thugs – not the deviously brilliant sociopaths that the team generally dealt with. However, they had been skilled and sneaky enough to get by the local law enforcement so that the police department in New Mexico had had no choice but to call JJ and ask for the BAU's help.

With a sigh, Garcia sat back in her swivel chair parked at her central computer, idly ran her fingers over the keys, and watched the searches she was running for other teams on other screens. She didn't have enough at the moment to truly keep her busy and not worrying about how "her" team specifically was doing. Idly, she wished that they would call because oftentimes it was Derek who put their requests through, and she could tell pretty quickly by his tone, and whether he flirted or joked with her, just how bad it was or if things were still alright. They hadn't needed anything from her so far, and she didn't like not being aware if that was because they had been able to wrap things up easily without any extra information from her babies, or if something had gone badly and they just hadn't been able to call her yet.

A glance at her computer's internal clock told her that though she was as anxious and jittery as if she still had a whole day's energy inside her and couldn't even think about going home and sleeping, it was nearing 3 a.m. With a sigh, she bit her lip and debated with herself a moment. She didn't particularly want them to know she was hanging around headquarters to make sure they got home after each case. It was a little ridiculous and she knew it. It would be embarrassing if they found out, and they'd be concerned for her, so she had managed to hide it so far. But she couldn't quite give up her vigil yet either.

Normally, once she saw them come off the elevators on one of the many building cameras that showed on screens in her office haven, she shut things down and went to catch a few hours' nap in one of the many deserted lounges throughout the building. Quantico's FBI headquarters was a large compound, branching and feeding off into a seemingly endless array of departments, hallways, and waiting areas. She had not once been interrupted; she had always roused herself, been to the locker rooms to freshen up and change, and been back to her bunker by the time any of her team arrived and looked for her. And if anyone else had noticed her, they figured she'd just had an overworked night and crashed. They all knew Penelope Garcia. Her skills and her eccentric nature were both well known within the Bureau and no one commented. Of course, no one had pieced together what a habit of sleep-deprivation and overwork to hide concern she had adopted during the BAU's most recent string of non-stop cases.

Bargaining with herself, Penelope resolved to find some schmuck she could devastate in online poker for the time being, and if she had heard nothing from Derek or the team by 3:30, she would assume nothing had happened, they had probably been back at their hotel sleeping for hours, and that they certainly wouldn't need her or be back while she took a couple hours' cat nap. Stifling a yawn, she began to do just that. She found a willing victim, her eyes twinkling as the computerized card game began, and she started to beat the pants off a hapless stranger. She was so engrossed in fact, that for almost ten minutes she forgot to watch the monitors and missed seeing the team drag in, looking exhausted and like something the cat ate and puked back up. Everyone but Derek dropped their things off at their respective desks or offices and left again, heading home for a well-deserved reprieve in their own beds.

But Derek Morgan quietly appeared to glance around and then purposefully strode offscreen – heading for his Baby Girl's office. Penelope, by the time she looked up from her hand of poker next, had missed all the entrances and exits and saw once again only the empty hallway before the closed elevator and the equally empty bullpen.

A few more minutes passed before she beat her unseen opponent's hand. Chuckling to herself and highly pleased with her triumph, she spun around in her chair to find Derek leaning in her doorway watching her and jumped with a start.

"Geez, give me a heart attack, why don't you? Knock next time!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest as she tried to get her heartbeat to slow back down. She smiled broadly though, letting him know that she wasn't really all that annoyed, and simply because she was glad to see him standing before her in person, uninjured and appearing not to be upset or haunted by the case they'd just wrapped.

He smirked mischievously, his eyes crinkling up as he smiled and stepped into the room, coming up behind her to stoop, wrap his arms around her shoulders, and give her a welcoming hug of affection. "I didn't know you'd gotten so jumpy, Goddess. Next time I'll call from my desk and warn you that I'm coming your way."

She swatted at him harmlessly, trying to look cross and failing miserably. "Give it a rest, Handsome, you know it isn't nice to sneak up on people. Stop giving me a hard time."

"Give you a hard time? Me?" he smacked a quick kiss to her cheek before rising to his full height again and offering his hand to help her to her feet. "Mama, it looks like you're giving yourself the hard time. Why in the world are you still here? Go home and get some sleep while you can!"

She grinned up at him, her nerves unraveling as she relaxed. Now that she knew everyone was safe, and she could at last go home and rest, Penelope was suddenly feeling the exhaustion she'd been staving off starting to press down on her. But she tried to ignore it and took Derek's hand, letting him pull her up.

As she came to her feet, the blood suddenly rushed from her head. Her knees buckled, and she wavered dizzily with weariness. She stumbled into Morgan, coming to rest against his solid chest, her hands splayed over his pecs.

"Whoa, Baby Girl. Easy…Are you alright?" he asked, concern creasing a furrow between his mocha-colored eyes as he caught her against him, his hand grasping her upper arms to steady her. "What's wrong?"

Penelope ventured a glance up to meet his searching gaze, blinking slightly in hopes of dissipating the hazy fog her sleep deprivation now seemed to be keeping her in. She supposed that it was the adrenaline that had kept her going for weeks now flagging –even as her pulse quickened at his touch, his concern warming her through and through. Licking her lips, she finally managed to respond breathlessly, "Nothing's wrong, Cupcake. I'm just tired. Ready to go home, that's all."

Morgan peered into her wide, guileless eyes a few moments longer, finally seeing the dark circles under them that she had been hiding, and the struggle she was having to keep her gaze focused. Suddenly, he quit clutching her arms and pulled her fully into an embrace. "Are you sure that's all, Angel? You look exhausted. Have you not been sleeping?"

"Derek," she answered, giving him a small smile and hoping she could fake nonchalance. "Stop worrying…I'm fine." But even as the words came out, they were sluggish and sounded fuzzy in her own ears. Without even realizing she was doing it, Penelope rested her head wearily on his shoulder, and dozed off for a second with his heartbeat next to her cheek, then jerked back into awareness.

"That's it, Doll Face," Derek said decisively, ruffling an awkward but tender hand through her feathery-soft hair as she looked up, knowing he had found her out and wondering what he was about to say. "You're barely staying upright. I'm taking you home myself. Right now."

She tried to protest; to tell him not to worry, not to go to a lot of trouble on her account – honestly she did – but the words just wouldn't come. When his arm went around her waist, gathering her close to his side as he turned out the lights in her office and his large, capable hand rested gently at the small of her back to guide her out the door, all argument flew from her brain. She was too tired and muddled to win a debate with him, and the sensation of his touch was too delicious to get rid of. Surprised, she found that she liked Derek taking care of her the way he was. She was just so glad to have him back; she could get used to having him to herself and right there with her.

When they got out to the parking lot, he stopped glancing down at her apologetically and said, "I'm sorry, Sweet Thing, but I rode the bike in yesterday. Not that I wouldn't love to have a hot woman like you behind me on the hog, but I don't think you're up for it tonight. Do you trust me to drive Esther?"

She smirked at him, her eyes still at half-mast – which Morgan had to admit he was finding adorably sexy just then. Instead of answering, she simply nodded against his side and fished the keys from her patent hot pink purse and handed them over.

Once in the car, she settled into the passenger seat and leaned her head back to see a blanket of stars above them. Humming contentedly when Derek's arm came to rest on the seat behind her as he backed the car out, and then let his hand drop to squeeze her shoulder affectionately for a moment, she heard the Everly Brothers' "Let it be Me" come on her favorite radio station. _'Perfect,' _her tired mind managed to think, taking in the whole situation. Then they were rolling down the road, the cool night air whipping around them, lovely and refreshing. Penelope found her tiredness winning again, her eyes trying to close on her even though she desperately wanted to stay awake and enjoy this time with him.

"It's okay, Sweetness," he murmured, glancing over and seeing her struggling to stay awake. He stroked a finger over her cheek lightly, the touch so gentle it made tears well up in her tired eyes. "Don't fight it. You obviously need the rest. I'll wake you when we get there."

Once again she wanted to resist, but all she managed was a small smile and she was lost to the most peaceful sleep she'd had in weeks.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

When the car stopped, the sudden loss of lulling motion combined with him gently shaking her shoulder to wake her brought Penelope back to awareness. For a second, she was confused about where she was and couldn't figure out why Derek was waking her. Then it came back to her, and she could feel herself flushing pink at the way she had just fallen asleep and caused all kinds of extra trouble for him, making him go out of his way to take care of her when he had to be exhausted himself.

But he grinned at her, a wink added in that made her heart race while her defenses were still down from being asleep. She normally tried not to let herself think that Derek's flirtatious words and actions were meant seriously for her. She didn't want to set herself up to be hurt by assuming he really meant them as romantic advances, when she knew it just simply wasn't possible. Yet tonight, she found herself responding in kind before she could stop herself. Grinning back at him devilishly, she murmured sleepily, "Well, waking up next to my own scrumptious chocolate god has to be a delicious first for me. Too bad I don't remember you being the one that got me so worn out, Honey Buns. That would have been a lot more fun…"

He threw his head back, laughing out loud at her observation. Once again, she'd taken him completely by surprise – which was one of the things he loved most about her. But he recovered himself well, eyes going darker and even more seductive when he responded, "Darlin', you have no idea. Believe me…you'd remember if I'd gotten you that kind of exhausted."

Her eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't expected him to go that far in his answer, and she let out an unguarded snort of laughter before responding sarcastically with, "Well, aren't you sure of yourself."

Smiling broadly and shaking his head at her, Morgan got out and came around to her side of the car to open the door and help Garcia out. "Come on, Sugar Lips, let's get you inside, so my Queen of all Things Knowable can finally receive her beauty sleep."

She then looked around the parking lot he had brought them to, only to see that he hadn't taken her home. "Um…not to be difficult, but where have you taken me, Stud Muffin?"

"We're at my place." He started leading her up the front walk, looking over his shoulder to waggle an eyebrow at her suggestively. "And no, I'm not planning on taking advantage of you. But I don't think you've been taking care of yourself, and I'm going to make sure you get some rest, even if I have to watch you like a hawk."

"Morgan, really," she teased back, her voice lilting playfully as she exaggeratedly pretended to bat her eyelashes at him, "if you wanted to spend the night with me all you had to do was ask."

Chuckling at her antics, he unlocked the door and ushered her into his bachelor pad. It was odd – the mash-up of emotions he felt running through him – his concern for her and the fact that she seemed almost slaphappy, out-of-her-head with exhaustion winning out. But she didn't seem to be taking it very seriously herself. Also, the brazen way she seemed to be returning his playful advances without a second thought was intriguing him and, he had to admit, sexy as hell. _'One mess of issues at a time,' _he told himself as he followed Garcia into the entryway and closed the door.

"Nice place," she said to him, cocking an eyebrow at the cluttered mess of his living room and coming to a halt, not sure where he wanted her to go. "Definitely a bachelor pad, but it's got potential."

"Well, I wasn't planning on company," he mumbled, actually looking as though a slight flush could have crossed his cheeks, though Penelope couldn't be sure. "I would have picked it up for you, Goddess."

"I didn't mean…" she trailed off, feeling like she'd said the wrong thing and turning toward the door again. "I'll just go home. You don't need me here. You've just gotten back and need to unwind and you're stuck worrying over me."

But he caught her arm as she tried to brush by him and drew her back, into the circle of his arms. "Pen. Stop. You know I want you here. You're staying and you're going to get some rest, or at least tell me why you can't. I only meant that I would have had the place looking better if I'd been planning to have you over."

She sighed, closing her eyes for just a moment and letting herself relish the sound of his voice rumbling just under her ear and the way he kept holding her. "You're forgiven, my Handsome Prince," she finally said at length. "Now where do I sleep?"

"You can have the bed," he offered gently leading her back towards and bedroom that ended up being tastefully decorated in grays and navys, darkly masculine and rather plain, but also comfortably lived in.

"Morgan, you should rest in your bed. Just get me a blanket and pillow for the couch."

"Nope. No way, Sweetness. Goddesses don't sleep on the couch – not at my place."

"If you say so," she smiled back, squeezing his hand and trying to convey in the touch how grateful she was for his taking care of her.

"I do say so," he returned playfully, digging through a chest of drawers until he found an old, thinly soft T-shirt that looked long and roomy enough for her to use as a nightshirt and offered it to her before disappearing into the bathroom to brush his teeth and give them both privacy to change into their pajamas.

A few minutes later, he was clad in a wife-beater undershirt and flannel lounge pants and called out to ask her if he could come back in. She didn't answer, but when he reentered the room it looked as though she'd already gotten into bed and crashed.

He'd known she couldn't hold out much longer and was glad to see her resting, though he wished she would share with him what had been troubling her enough to get her in the state she was in. Smiling at the beautifully sweet picture she made lying there peacefully, her blonde halo of hair spread out across his pillow, he walked over to turn off the lamp on the table beside her. He couldn't help reaching out to brush an unruly golden strand off her face.

She rolled over to look up at him blearily, eyes opening just a bit as she reached out to grab his hand and hold onto him. "I'm glad you're back," she whispered.

"Me too, Goddess," he said, knowing she probably wasn't completely aware, but still touched that she had missed him.

But she continued, pulling at his hand to draw him closer. "Stay here. Please? I can't sleep when you're on a case anymore. I have to be there if something happens. You might get hurt and I wouldn't know…"

Morgan didn't know what to do or say. He was completely flabbergasted. There were a lot of things he wanted to ask, and to assure her of, and he suddenly knew exactly why she had looked like death warmed over when he'd found her today. He felt awful that she'd clearly been worrying herself sick about him and he hadn't even noticed. But all he did at that moment was the one thing he could; what he wanted and she needed him to do.

He went around to the other side of the bed, crawled in under the covers, and wrapped his arms around her, spooning her warm, soft body against his own. "I'm right here, Baby Girl. We're both safe, and I'm not going anywhere. Just rest. It's okay."

She let out a long, relieved sigh, snuggled back to fit perfectly in the shelter of his embrace, and he felt her finally relax. Morgan watched her for a bit longer, to make sure she really was sleeping at last, before he joined her in slumber. They'd figure the rest of it out in the morning.

"We find rest in those we love, and we provide and resting place in ourselves

_for those who love us."_

_-Bernard of Clairvaux_


	2. What Dreams May Come

(This is the second chapter of "The Things We Do…" I hope you enjoyed the first and my little break from the drama for something a bit more fluffy and comforting. This is the capper for this little two-parter and will allow Garcia to return the favor and help Morgan. I will be getting back to "Trial by Fire" soon, I promise, cross my heart and hope to die! What can I say? I'm a sap and sometimes I have to get a little bit more mushy than the show would ever realistically allow in canon. Anyway, thanks for reading, and of course I don't own the show or the characters.)

The Things We Do…

Chapter Two

What Dreams May Come

"And through the bad dreams, I'll be right there baby

_Holding your hand, telling you everything is alright_

_And when you cry, I'll be right there_

_Telling you you were never anything less than beautiful…"_

_- "Angel Standing By," Jewel_

She stretched slightly, thinking hard, trying to figure out what had been wrong and awakened her. Her legs slipped through the sheets as she rolled over, wondering why her nightshirt seemed so much bigger than usual and why the sheets seemed more satiny smooth against her skin than they normally were. It took several bleary moments blinking into the dim room before she realized that she wasn't in her own bed and nightshirt. It was Morgan's. Penelope felt warmth spreading throughout her body at the comfort she felt with that realization. She turned her head to look at him gratefully, and it was then that she saw why she had been jerked out of her pleasant slumber.

Morgan was clearly having a nightmare; his head and shoulders thrashing back and forth on the pillow as a low groan, almost a whimper, escaped from his throat. She started to reach out to shake his arm lightly and wake him, when he unconsciously jerked away suddenly and turned his back toward her.

"No, stop," he begged in his sleep, a low mumbling in his chest, but still sounding so plaintive and helpless that she could hardly make it sound like him at all. "Don't! Please…I don't want you to!" His strong shoulders were shaking, and she knew he had to be silently crying, reliving being a helpless 13-year-old boy at the mercy of a monster, a monster who had posed as a friend until it was too late for Morgan to escape.

Penelope couldn't bear to see him suffer even a second longer, and reached out to lay a light, soothing hand on his back to wake him, not thinking what he'd do being suddenly awakened from such a vividly terrible memory. Just like that, she found herself flipped over on her back, her hand crushed in an iron grip and Morgan leaning over her, eyes angry, scared, and unfocused. "Don't touch me," he snarled. "You're not ever gonna touch me again."

She gasped, the air flying out of her lungs in shock and her heart tripling its beat. She didn't know what to do, or how to snap him out of something that was obviously as much a flashback as a recurring nightmare. "I-I-I'm sorry. Derek, I didn't mean to- …It's me, Penelope. I'm not g-going to hurt y-you."

As quickly as he'd reacted, Morgan seemed to deflate and come back to himself. His eyes cleared and he immediately loosened his grip, letting her go and rolling over onto his side of the bed again. Now instead of staring her down with menace, like he didn't even know her, he was shamefacedly avoiding her eyes. "Pen," he whispered almost inaudibly, rubbing a hand wearily over his face but refusing to look at her or touch her at all. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize…I wasn't…I would never hurt you…I didn't know it was you there for a second."

She was still trembling, there was no way to deny that, but she certainly wasn't blaming him or thinking that he had jumped her like that intentionally. He hadn't been in the present, or really even consciously seeing her, until he had already reacted in self-defense. He still had so much pain from Buford's abuse buried inside that he hadn't dealt with and couldn't seem to share with anyone. All she wanted right then was to help, to somehow take the pain away from him. "Shh…" she soothed, scooting closer and wrapping her arms around him, rubbing her hands over his bare shoulders and chest as she hugged him tightly, unconsciously echoing the way he had held her earlier that night when he had finally helped her sleep. "I know that. I know you wouldn't try to hurt me. I startled you in the middle of a nightmare and you reacted before you knew what was happening. I only wish you'd talk to me, or to someone. You don't still have to carry this around; it was never your fault." She drew in a hesitant breath, hoping her next question didn't make him shut down completely on her, then pressed, "Do you have that nightmare often?"

He shook his head, still not turning to look at her, his muscles tight as if he wanted to break away from her and run. "I can't talk about…no one wants to hear…what it was like-" his voice broke and he swallowed hard before speaking again. "No, I don't have that dream very often, not the way I used to. It's finally starting to happen less and less. But I didn't want you to hear…the whole thing just turns my stomach. I don't want you to see me that way."

"Derek!" she exclaimed, having to stop him, her heart actually aching that all these years later he was still accepting blame, letting himself fell guilty and ashamed for something he had no choice in. Did he really think she would see him any differently…or love him any less? "Don't you think that way! I just spent three weeks barely leaving the Bureau for fear I might miss something, or not be there when you needed me. You have befriended me, taken care of me, made me feel like I'm worth someone's trouble, more times than I can count, and yet you actually think there's anything that could make me think any less of you? You will always be the most incredible, strong, and heroic man I know. Even more so because of what you've overcome. I just want to help. I want you to be able to see yourself the way I see you."

He sucked in what seemed to be a deep, but rather ragged, breath and let it out, then finally turned to face her, lacing the fingers of her left hand with his and bringing their joined hands to rest on his chest, over his heart. Reaching out to stroke a hand through her riotously curling morning bedhead, he gave her a weary sort of grateful smile. "Why, Penelope? How can you see me the way you do, knowing what you know? I don't deserve it."

"Yes," she leaned forward, squeezing the hand holding hers to emphasize her words, "you do, and I mean that with all my heart."

"I know you do. And I don't understand, but I'm glad. You make the memories and the nightmares better by looking at me like you are right now. Reminding me that I've come a long way from that time. That stuff's behind me now." The subject was closed for the moment, she could tell, but his smile seemed genuine and his eyes less clouded, so she let it go. Moving forward, he brushed a gentle kiss against her forehead. "So, now that you're done making me feel human again, maybe you could explain to me why you've suddenly become so concerned with my safety that you're making yourself sick."

She now found herself looking down at their hands twined together, not wanting to look him in the eye anymore than he had wanted to meet her gaze a moment ago. "I- I guess I just think that no one ever worries about you. And it isn't right. You're human, you can be hurt too, and you bleed just like anyone else. For some reason, I can't let go. I care about you too much. I know that we're friends, but it's more than that…I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you, Derek. It really might kill me. What would I do if you were gone?"

Tears were beading in the corners of her eyes now, and she tried to tuck her chin under and bury her face in his chest, so he couldn't see her crying and ending up feeling even more ridiculous. But, to her surprise, she felt his warm, strong fingers taking her chin in his carefully soft yet firm grip and tilting her face back up to look at him. "And what makes you think I feel any differently about you?" he asked, voice deep and husky with emotion. "I'd be lost without you in my world."

That brought her wide hazel eyes quickly back up to meet his and hold. "You would?" she breathed out in a soft whisper, reaching up to brush his cheeks with her fingertips, awe on her face and in her stunned tone of voice.

He couldn't help shaking his head in disbelief. Could she really not know how much she meant to him? After all they had been through and all she did for him just being there to brighten his days and never thinking less of him despite what he felt were justified reasons for her to, could she not see that he needed her in his life? She seemed so confident, so self-assured, that glimpses deeper inside her like this tended to knock him flat. She had no clue how amazing she was – didn't recognize how important she was to him. He brought both hands up then, cradling her face, pulling her closer until their foreheads touched. "Yes, Penelope, of course I would be lost. Don't you understand how much I care about you?"

"I guess I just thought you were being you, and that you would be as wonderful to any of your friends as you are to me. I didn't," here she stopped, wetting her lips and praying for courage, "I didn't think that there was any chance it was more than that. Even if I have realized that I love you."

She tried to lower her gaze again, but Morgan wouldn't let her, not now. He was stunned by her words. In his mind, a beautiful, funny, sexy, independent woman like Garcia could have anyone she wanted. Why would she choose to be with someone like him – constantly putting himself in danger, rarely home, slow to trust; someone jaded and haunted, damaged and scarred? All he really had going for him, at least the way he saw it, was that he would give anything to protect her and see her be happy, and that he loved her back just as much as she loved him. "Baby Girl," he murmured adoringly, pulling away just enough to watch her eyes warm and her bottom lip tremble as he traced the outline of it with his thumb. "Haven't you ever thought that maybe I love you too?"

He leaned in to kiss her full on the mouth, drawing her into his strong, insistent feeling, finally free and growing each second now that he had at last been able to admit it to her. Reaching out, Morgan ran a hand through her mussed, silky blonde curls and tried to draw her even closer, feeling her let out a sigh and relax into his arms, melting at his touch in a way that both of them had thought of in unguarded moments, but that neither had ever admitted or thought possible.

Eventually they draw apart again and Penelope looked up at him, her eyes studying his handsome face. His mouth was grinning now as he traced a hand along her features, his eyes lightened of the troubled look they'd held when he first woke. She could still see the traces of fear, shame, and betrayal left over from his memories and the nightmare, but he had conquered them for now.

One side of her mouth quirked up in a wry, bittersweet smile as she reached up to stroke his cheek and pull him back towards her. "I can't believe you've felt the same way I do all this time."

He shook his head slowly, easily just as awed as she was. It was almost funny now, the way their friendship had grown, their flirtation and chemistry, their comfort with each other and the way they had come to depend on one another, and yet neither of them had been able to admit to the other how deep their feelings went. The thought of losing someone who could bring them such solace had been too strong a barrier until last night when those walls had finally crumbled. "At least we know now," he murmured, kissing her forehead and gathering her close as she cuddled her head under his chin.

"And hey," she teased lightly, before they stopped talking and finally drifted back to sleep in each other's arms, "maybe you should keep me around. I'll do my very best to keep the nightmares away for you."

He chuckled and hugged her more firmly against him. "I'm sure you will, Baby Girl. I'm sure you will."

"I have had dreams and I have had nightmares, but I have

_conquered my nightmares because of my dreams."_

_- Jonas Salk_


End file.
